


And What Of My Heart?

by ItsAlwaysBloodMagic



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Attempt at BDSM, Blind Character, Dad!Cor, Developing Relationship, End Game Spoilers, Episode Ignis Spoilers, Established Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, High School, Kidfic, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Promnis Week, Spoilers, brotherhood era, but it doesn't work out, poor communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-08 04:59:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13451058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAlwaysBloodMagic/pseuds/ItsAlwaysBloodMagic
Summary: A collection of short fics for Promnis Week.





	1. Prompt - "Can I take a picture of you like this?"

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: "Can I take a picture of you like this?"  
> Mature. Angst and humor. Developing relationship. Canon-compliant.
> 
> Day 2: Fake relationship to real relationship  
> Teen and Up. Fluff, so much fluff. Friends to Lovers. Brotherhood era.
> 
> Day 3: Ignis comforting Prompto from reoccurring nightmares  
> General Audiences. Angst. Canon-compliant.
> 
> Day 4: Gloves  
> General Audiences. Angst. Drabble. Canon-compliant.
> 
> Day 5: Ignis gets captured, Prompto gets blinded  
> General Audiences. Humor and fluff. Kidfic. Dad!Cor AU. 
> 
> Day 6: Dancing  
> General Audiences. Humor and fluff. Friends to Lovers. High School AU. 
> 
> Day 7: BDSM  
> Mature. Light Humor. Nothing explicit. Established relationship. Poor communication. AU. 
> 
> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis was supposed to be irritated, to impart a lesson on the importance of thinking through one’s actions and not catching people unawares with the incessant snapping of camera lenses. Instead the corners of his mouth crept up, no doubt a reflex, as though Prompto had sneezed and he’d felt compelled to follow suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to see Days 1, 3, and 4 as interconnected moments in the same story, even though that wasn't my intention going in. I invite you to read them that way if you wish.

Click.

Ignis’ shoulders tensed at the sound. He braced his hands on the fold-out table. It wobbled, causing a set of paring knives to tumble off the edge and hit the ground with a resounding clatter. _Drat._ The unyielding stone that made up the haven was not an ideal place for a makeshift kitchen. The table was particularly problematic in an outdoor setting. One leg always feigned to be shorter than the others, and no amount of creative propping ever seemed to even them out.

He could only hope the knives would take it upon themselves to land blade – up. A chipped blade made for ruined cutlery, and they could hardly afford to be replacing cookware willy-nilly.

"Prompto," he admonished, previous attempts at calming himself out the window with the clatter of the knife, "did you just take a photo of me?"

Ignis turned around to regard the young man. Prompto was examining the view screen on his camera, a smile teasing up toward his cheekbones. No doubt pleased with his work, Ignis thought, and oblivious to the fact that it had almost cost him his dinner. He jumped when Ignis spoke, standing up straight at the sight of his glaring, actions mimicking a child caught doing something they ought not. It was endearing, if nothing else. Were it not for the strap secured around his neck, the camera would have fallen to the ground for how quickly he jerked his hands away.

A smile, then, bright and cheeky. "Yeah, I mean, should I not have?" 

Ignis felt himself light up from the inside, overwhelmed with the radiance of the sun. He was supposed to be irritated, to impart a lesson on the importance of thinking through one’s actions and not catching people unawares with the incessant snapping of camera lenses. Instead the corners of his mouth crept up, no doubt a reflex, as though Prompto had sneezed and he’d felt compelled to follow suit.

He wondered if Prompto understood the effect he had on the world around him.

Warmth snuck its way into the words uttered next:

"It’s quite all right. Next time, however, you may consider begging my consent."

Prompto all but beamed. Sunlight. The man was pure sunlight.

"Begging, huh? I could do that." 

A wink, and Ignis was smitten.

_____

"Hey Iggy, can I take a picture of you like this?"

The words were meant to illicit the flutter at Ignis’ solar plexus, he was sure of it.

"Certainly. I would like to see it after, if you don’t mind."

"A private showing? Works for me." 

A waggle of eyebrows, and Ignis was lost.

_____

There would not be a private showing. Prompto was too restless, to difficult to pin down. Ignis could not think too long on that, lest the idea of _pinning_ distract him to the point of uselessness. He had no space for distractions with the Empire breathing down their neck. Noctis was down for the count, fluctuating between sullen silence and ugly bursts or rage. He was functioning, Ignis supposed, as well as could be expected, given the loss of everything he’d known and the forced exile they found themselves in. Gladiolus, on the other hand… Gladiolus would insist he was well, if pressed, but Ignis could see the cracks, and they were growing. The man refused to mourn his losses. Ignis would not give him more responsibility in addition to one they all carried, the prince at the center of their lives.

No, Ignis could not afford the frankly glorious distraction that was Prompto Argentum. Not right now, and potentially not ever.

A flash of teeth from across the campfire. A high-pitched laugh paired with the wave of an arm. The impossible – a return laugh from Noct, genuine joy spilling forth, settling into his bones like a cat that’s discovered an oversize lap.

Ignis cleared his throat. "Well," he said, "it’s high time I turned in. It would do the group well if the rest of you were to follow suit. We all have an early morning tomorrow."

Noctis ignored him, which was to be expected. Gladio was leaning forward in anticipation of whatever tidbit Prompto chose to disclose next. The boy was weaving a spell on all of them, a meandering story tumbling from his lips, punctuated by broad gestures and playful jostles.

Prompto’s eyes caught Ignis’ when he stood. The story rattled to a halt with a "Goodnight, Iggy" and a breathless pause. Ignis expected Prompto to continue as though the farewell had never been uttered, but instead his gaze was held, a touch of uncertainty fluttering around the edges. Then, bold and to the point, "Wait, can I take a picture of you like this?"

Ignis paused, caught off-guard. "What?"

Boldness faded back to uncertainty. "Is that okay?"

"Why," Ignis asked, "would you wish to take a photo in the dark?"

"Aha, good point," Prompto said. He was shaking his knee, full sum of a day’s pent up energy concentrated in the movement of an ankle joint. "Seriously, though. The firelight - it’s playing off your face. I wanna capture your cheekbones, uh, and your hair, and… all of it." Prompto gestured to his own face in a general sort of way. "And maybe take your glasses off? Like you do when you clean them?"

Fidgeting. Eyes cast in all directions. 

A flash of blue, and Ignis was shaken.

_____ 

"What about combat photos?"

"Hmm?" Ignis asked. It was early morning, and Prompto was helping him prepare breakfast. "Last I checked, we were not embedded in the front lines."

A shrug. "If this isn’t the front lines, then what is?" Point taken. "Besides, I can’t really ask you, y’know, when you’re about to stab something. Can you imagine? Tapping you on the shoulder while you’re mid-swipe, like - wait, like this -- " Prompto reached for an elbow, followed it up with a second hand to the waist, pulling Ignis away from the cutting board. His hands were warm and direct, seemingly all business, as Prompto himself would say. They moved down to position his legs and then up to his arms. Prompto took the cutting knives from the table; the protest of "don’t touch those, please" ignored, of course; and wrapped Ignis’ fingers around them. The contact, innocent as it was, went straight to his groin. He groaned internally. The reaction was hardly appropriate, and yet here he was, unable to keep it under wraps.

"And then I come along, like so." Prompto mimicked approaching him, staging a dodge and roll for realism. "And I say hey Iggy, can I take a picture of you like this?" A tap to one shoulder. 

Ignis stumbled, unsteady on his feet. 

"See? Terrible idea." Prompto made a considering sound. "So can I? In combat, I mean."

"Yes." It was said with a certain amount of vexation. "Now kindly position me back at the cutting board."

Prompto’s laughter bubbled over into something resembling mania. "Why? You get turned to stone or something?" He shaped his mouth around syllables in an embarrassing approximation of Ignis. "Ignis is hard as a rock!" he announced to the world. 

Grumbling came from inside the tent. 

A cackle, and Ignis was dead.

_____

"Prompto, may I -- " Ignis gasped, brandishing his phone.

"Mmph." A thread of spittle mixed with come, stretching from lips to cock. "Yeah. That’s hot."

Buried to the base. Soft and wet.

A shudder, and Ignis was gone.

_____

Warm breeze against bare arms, the rare chance to wear something other than dress shirts.

Arms wrapped around a lithe figure, chest to back, still and calm.

A panorama, stretched in front of them, far as the eye could see.

"It’s beautiful." Awe.

"Yes." Breathed out like a prayer.

Something had changed.

Prompto took Ignis’ arms and moved them gently down, stepping away far enough to lean against the metal barrier. Ignis couldn’t help but feel alone.

When did that happen? The shift to together-ness, delicate as it was? A foundation weak enough to crumble with the absence of touch must be addressed, if it was to survive.

If it was to survive.

A hand reached back for his. Ignis took it, and Prompto swung his head around. A flash of freckles, hair falling across a pale face.

Ignis knew he was grinning. He didn’t often grin. That was new too.

"Can I take a picture of you like this?" Prompto asked, unclasping their hands to boop him on the nose.

His grin grew wider. "Always."

A shuffle of feet, and Ignis was falling.

_____

He stumbled. Tried again.

Couldn’t even make it across the damn room.

He felt his hand caught up in another, bone structure fine, easily made out beneath the skin. Ah. Prompto.

"My thanks," he muttered, but he didn’t mean it, couldn’t bring himself to care if it came out bitter.

"No prob, dude. You’re trying to find the dresser, right? Here, this way." Prompto guided his arm up until he was grasping a bony shoulder. At least he had the decency not to tow Ignis along like a child, forced cheerfulness notwithstanding.

"You want your Crownsguard fatigues? Jacket or no jacket? Hmm… maybe a T-shirt instead? What do you think, Iggy?" There was no pause to give Ignis time to think, as there would have been were Prompto being considerate. "Wait, what about the pinstripe shirt? That’s my favorite, and we both know it’s all about me."

Ignis could hear the wink. It made him a little sick.

Prompto moved on to chattering about shoes, as though Ignis owned more than one pair. Then it was pants. "What’s with the stripe down the side of your jeans? Huh, funny I never noticed that before." 

"Prompto. Stop."

A pause. "Oh." Quiet. "Sorry."

"Hand me my shirt, will you?" Terse words, not aimed to cut the way they did.

Fabric pressed into his hands, crisp and satisfying. The pinstripe one, then. Sleeve garters followed. He turned and headed back toward the bed.

Hit the corner of something.

"Hey, Iggy, hold up. I got that." The shirt was whisked away, out of his grasp. For all Ignis knew it had ceased existing altogether. "Grab my shoulder again."

Everything may have ceased to exist, excepting Prompto and his inanely cheerful voice. 

Ignis supposed he should be grateful.

Prompto helped him get settled on the bed. His sleepwear came off, top first. A hand traveled down his chest, pressing gently against damaged skin. Burned by the blessing of Kings. Useless, in the end. 

This, followed by lips. A kiss meant to be gentle.

Ignis flinched back. The hand stilled, took his own. Fingers wrapped tight like a lifeline. 

"Sorry," Prompto whispered. He felt the pad of a thumb trace along the inside of his palm. "You should go without gloves for a while."

"Why on Eos would I do that?"

"Dunno," and he could see the shrug, the way one shoulder moved in feigned indifference. How long until he no longer remembered those details? "Heighten your sense of touch, help you get your bearings. Plus," and Prompto raised Ignis’ hand to chapped lips, kissing his fingertips gently and following it up with a lick, "then you could feel me." Pink tongue darting out, quick and certain, a ghost of an image. Voice dropped low, pitched in a way that just last week would have made Ignis want.

"Iggy," Prompto whispered, breath skating over trembling fingers. "Can I take a picture of you like this?"

Bile to the back of the throat. Putrid and demanding.

Ignis pulled away.

"No."

A choked sob, and Ignis was through.

_____

A weak laugh. Too many secrets.

"How bad is it?"

"It’s bad."

Gladiolus described the damage - cuts, bruises, burns - while Noctis and Prompto murmured quietly to one another. Truthfully, Prompto came away from it – from Ardyn – in better shape than Ignis had. 

He supposed he was a selfish man.

"Tell me, were you worried about me?"

A question, and Ignis was silent.

_____

Nine long years, and they didn’t speak for seven. The remaining two were spent trying to patch things up, only to have them fall apart again.

It wasn’t just once. 

Eternal darkness, they told him, like it made any difference.

He invited the old bitterness back. That’s what finally ended it, according to Prompto. Them. That’s what finally ended them.

Prompto wandered off into the desert. Ignis didn’t ask where, or if he was okay, and nobody dare supply the information unsolicited. That wasn’t entirely true. Once, a hunter tried. Nobody did after that. 

He himself embraced a quiet and altogether unhappy life, a blind man assumed useless, shuffled into a cramped room at the Leville. At least they left him alone. 

Occasionally he would challenge some unsuspecting hunter to a friendly bit of combat. Many were ex-Glaives, he learned, and oh, did he have a bone to pick with them. They never lasted long. He supposed it was cruel, but mostly he just wished he could see them after, covered in icy welts and blinking in surprise. 

Soft footsteps behind him, familiar in their gait. Ghosts, Ignis told himself.

A click, and Ignis was shattered.

_____

"Can I take a picture of you like this?" 

"Prompto, I - it’ll only hurt later."

"Please?"

"Should we really be documenting – " 

"Yes." 

Calloused hands against a cheekbone. Cold lips pressed to his.

A heartbeat, and Ignis was certain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)


	2. Prompt - fake relationship to real relationship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Noct! How am I supposed to do that? ‘Oh hey, Iggy, let’s hang out. It’s totally not a date, even though we’ve never hung out one-on-one before. Also, wanna hold hands?’ ”
> 
> Noctis snorted. "Nobody said you’d have to hold hands.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, the response from day one was so overwhelming and wonderful! I hope this bit of fluff does your heart a world of good.
> 
> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)

Noctis looked up from where he was doing homework at the dining room table. "Hey Specs, I need a favor." He flicked his pen idly, as though working through a particularly difficult math problem. 

If Ignis knew anything, it was how to recognize when Noctis was hatching a plot. He dried his hands on a towel and stepped around the kitchen island, leaning against it and crossing his arms over his chest. "Of course, Highness, anything for you."

"Iggy," Noct said with a roll of his eyes, "You know I hate it when you call me Highness."

Ignis’ lips curled up into a smirk.

"Ugh, and you did it on purpose!"

The smirk only grew wider. "I did no such thing." 

"Whatever. Listen, will you take Prompto to the gala with you? As your plus one?" 

"And how do you know I don’t already have somebody in mind?"

"Come on, Specs, who would even go on a date with you?"

Ignis’ eyebrows drew together for only the briefest of seconds. "Noct."

"Didn’t mean it like that," Noct mumbled. "I just mean - I’ve never seen you with anybody before."

"Maybe I prefer to keep my private affairs private." 

Noctis pouted, a petulant move meant to draw an agreement from Ignis. Gladio would call Noct a little brat for it, but Ignis was not Gladio. He pretended to consider the proposal. 

"Luckily, I don’t have a date lined up for this particular event. Next month, is it?" 

The pout disappeared immediately. "You’re the best, Ignis."

"I know." Ignis couldn’t help but smile. 

It was worth it for the look on Noct’s face.

_____

Noctis actually helped Ignis prepare dinner, which was a first as far as he could remember. It was a bit of a disaster, or it would have been, if Ignis hadn’t changed tactics halfway through and given Noctis a bag of peas to shell instead of letting him at the mixer. It turned out okay in the end, even if Noct’s serving of peas was doomed to end up in Ignis’ bowl.

When the vegetables had all been added stealthily to the broth and the stove turned down to simmer, Noctis brought up the topic of the gala again.

"You could take Prompto out on a couple of dates first, if you wanted."

Ignis choked on absolutely nothing, then found his glasses needed polishing immediately. He removed them from the bridge of his nose and grabbed the nearest object to wipe them with, only to realize too late that it was a potholder, altogether too bulky to wrap around a pair of lenses without threatening the structural integrity of the frames.

"What was that?" he asked, perhaps a bit too sharply.

Noctis fixed him with an all-too-knowing look. "You know, for practice. So it’s not obvious you two aren’t together. At the gala."

"Oh," Ignis said, appraising. "Very sharp of you, Noct."

"I learn from the best," Noct responded. He clasped Ignis on the shoulder. "Don’t let Prompto know they’re fake dates, though. He’d just blow your guys’ cover."

Fake dates. Of course. 

"You can count on me to keep it under wraps." Ignis turned the heat off on the stove. "Help yourself to some stew, Highness."

_____

Prompto felt something hit him in the back of the head.

"Ow!" he said, turning around in his seat. "Hey, dude! That hurt!"

"It was a paper airplane, Prom. There’s no way it hurt," Noct responded. His eyes widened. "Teacher," he hissed, waving his arms. "Turn around, quick!"

Prompto scooped the paper airplane off the floor before facing forward. He slid it inside his desk just in time, because when he glanced up the teacher was looking right at them. He let out a breath and whispered a silent prayer of thanks to Titan, the god of bros that have your back.

"Something you want to share with us, boys?"

Prompto shrunk down in his seat and waited for Noctis to pull his prince act, but the traitor stayed silent. 

"Mr. Argentum?"

"No ma’am," Prompto mumbled, trying his best not to squirm in his chair. 

The minute her back was turned he whipped around to face Noctis again. "What is it?"

"Dude, read the note! And shut up."

"Fine," Prompto huffed. He pulled the note out and unfolded it, smoothing it across the top of Noct’s desk. 

_'Will you go out with Specs?'_ it read. _'Check yes or no.'_

There were two boxes at the bottom, labeled, predictably, yes and no.

Prompto stared at it, then looked quizzically up at Noct.

"What’s this about?" 

"Just check yes or no," Noctis said, a little impatiently.

"Iggy wants to date me?"

"C’mon, Prom."

Prompto drew a third box and wrote _'maybe?'_ over the top of it. He checked the box.

"Seriously? Lame," Noct complained with a groan.

_____

Noctis attempted to explain it again on their walk home. "No, Iggy doesn’t want to date you."

"Then why’d he write me the note?"

"I wrote it, Prom. Because I want you to go to the gala with me next month."

Prompto clutched his heart and pretended to swoon. "Aww, are you asking me to the dance?" 

"Shut up!" Noctis said, glowering.

"That’s pretty gay, buddy."

"You’re pretty gay."

"Yep! And so are you." Prompto laughed and landed a playful hit on Noct’s butt.

"Hey! I’m only gay for Gladio."

"Your porn collection says otherwise." 

Noctis rubbed the back of his neck and ducked his head, grinning. "Fine. I’m a little gay."

"Seriously, though, why’s the note say Specs when I’m going to the gala with you?"

"So you’ll go?" Noct asked, the hope in his voice betraying his nonchalant attitude.

"Yeah, of course. Wouldn’t want my prince to get bored."

"Great!" Noct’s face lit up. "But, uh, there’s a catch." He looked away.

Prompto let out a dramatic sigh. "There’s always a catch."

"You gotta go as Ignis’ plus one."

"What? Why?" A blush crept up Prompto’s neck. "Can’t I just go with you?"

"The prince can’t show up to a gala with a date, Prom."

Prompto rolled his eyes and let out a dramatic huff. "Noct, that shit is so old-fashioned. Can’t you use your princely power to outlaw it? And take me to the dance so I don’t have to go with Iggy?"

"It’s a gala."

"Whatever. Please?"

Noctis sharpened his gaze, and Prompto knew he was caught out. "Why don’t you want to go with Specs?"

"No – no reason!" The blush worked its way into Prompto’s cheeks. 

"Then it shouldn’t be a problem." Noctis said, making it clear that he understood just how much of a problem it was.

Maybe if he just played it cool. "Nope! No problem here!" 

Yeah, that wasn’t cool. 

Noct put his hands in his pockets, adopting a casual posture. "You should go on a couple practice dates first, you know, make it more realistic." 

"Yeah, like Iggy’d ever agree to that," Prompto said, feigning indifference. He was so fucked.

"So don’t tell him."

"What? Noct! How am I supposed to do that? ‘Oh hey, Iggy, let’s hang out. It’s totally not a date, even though we’ve never hung out one-on-one before. Also, wanna hold hands?’ "

There was a snort, and then Noct pushed him, hard. "Nobody said you’d have to hold hands." 

"But what if I wanted to?"

"Is that a joke?"

It took Prompto a moment to realize that Noctis had stopped walking; so long, in fact, that he almost tripped over him. "Um… maybe?"

"It’s maybe a joke that you wanna hold Ignis’ hand." Noctis repeated, skeptical.

"Well, it’s a little bit of a joke. Like it’d never happen."

Noctis regarded his friend for a minute, then shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever," he said. "Go on a couple of fake dates, then. Maybe something’ll happen. You never know." He paused. "Oh, but don’t tell Ignis they’re fake. He’d never go for that kind of thing."

Yeah, fake. Prompto could do fake. "Good idea, Noct! Not that I wanna date Iggy or anything. Just – the fake dates. Um." Best smile, Prompto. Good. Now finger guns. Okay, half finger guns half awkward thing. 

"I’m gonna sweep him off his feet. Prompto special, coming right up!"

"Prom! You gotta stop saying that!"

_____

Ignis could hear them coming up the stairs, Prompto’s laughter bouncing against the walls, as though an extension of the young man himself.

He steeled himself. He could do this. 

The front door opened. "Hey Specs," Noctis greeted, before making a beeline for his room. Ignis stared desperately after him, then turned to Prompto, only to find that he appeared to be doing the exact same thing.

"Prompto."

Prompto jumped and let out a squeal. "Yeah?"

"Pardon? I mean – Oh, dear. I intended it as a hello."

"Oh, okay." Prompto giggled. "Hi, Iggy."

There was a long, awkward pause.

Ignis cleared his throat. Coughed. "Would you like to –" 

"Wanna hang out sometime?" 

Ignis blinked. A beat of silence passed. "Yes," he said cautiously. "I would very much like that." 

Perhaps this whole endeavor would be easier than he’d imagined.

"Great!" Prompto said, voice pitching up several octaves. "It’s a date then!" He dashed down the hall to Noct’s room, jerking the door open and slamming it shut behind him.

Ignis heard a muffled scream from behind the door.

Or perhaps not.

_____

Prompto proved incapable of planning a date.

He was waiting outside when Ignis swung by to pick him up. They had a rather tense hello, in which Ignis proved himself incapable of conversing like a human, and then Prompto admitted anxiously that he had absolutely no plans for the evening.

"Really? None at all."

"Uh… nope." Prompto said, popping the P. He stared out the window.

Ignis thought about trying to reassure him, perhaps tell him that it was fine, but it really wasn’t. Ignis hated going without plans. He was already thrown off by not knowing whether they were going to dinner, and had chosen to have a late snack so he would be hungry upon arrival but not too hungry. Now he was faced with the crisis of no plans whatsoever. He attempted a bout of emergency strategizing. It was 7pm, and it would be dark out soon, so no sense going to a park. He didn’t particularly want to see a movie, and besides, it was perhaps a bit intimate for a first date. First fake date, he reminded himself. Drinks were out of the question; he didn’t relish the idea of accidentally letting something slip, and Prompto was a flirty drunk, which had the potential to – best not to dwell on that.

Dinner was the obvious choice.

Ignis turned the car on and pulled into the street without saying anything. It was a mistake, one he didn’t realize he’d made until he glanced sideways at Prompto while they were stopped at a light. Prompto was still turned to the side, staring out the window, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else.

He laid a hand on Prompto’s knee. The boy jumped at the contact.

"Apologies," Ignis said swiftly, withdrawing the hand. "I simply wished to inquire if you were all right."

"What? Oh yeah, of course," Prompto responded. He was convincing exactly nobody.

"Are you certain? We don’t have to – this mustn’t be a date, you know." Noct would be upset, but his current priority was to make Prompto feel less… whatever it was he was feeling, if for no other reason than because it was putting Ignis on edge.

"No! I mean, I want it to be a date. If you do." Prompto blushed clear up his ears. It was cute. Ignis turned the word over in his head, wondering if he should be thinking of his pretend date as cute. He supposed it was true enough and decided to leave it at that.

"I believe I would," Ignis said, and he found that to be true as well.

_____

Noctis picked up on the fifth ring.

"Hey buddy, didn’t think you were gonna answer your phone," Prompto said cheerfully. Honestly, he’d texted Noct three times already and was putting off calling because he didn’t want to be a pushy friend, but he just had to spill to somebody, and wasn’t that what best friends were supposed to do? Let you blather on about your crushes? "Guess what?"

"What?" Noctis asked. He sounded out of breath.

"Iggy and I had our first date!"

Noctis grunted. "Cool. How’d it go?"

"Good! I mean, it was awful at first. I forgot to pick a place to go, and he seemed, like, angry about it? But then he started driving, and he put a hand on my leg, and he told me he wanted it to be a date!" Prompto took a breath and then continued. "We got ramen. I talked a whole lot so it wouldn’t be awkward." He rolled over onto his back and put his phone on speaker so he flip through MoogleGram while they talked.

"Sounds about right," Noctis said, after a pause that went on just a little too long.

"He didn’t kiss me, though. Does that mean he doesn’t like me?" It was a question he’d been worrying about since the end of the date. They’d pulled up to the house, and Prompto had turned to Ignis expectantly and waited, but no kiss. He tried stalling for time by chattering, and then not chattering and just kind of batting his eyelashes, and even leaning forward a little, the universal symbol for ‘I would be totally down for a kiss right now but I’m too shy to initiate so it’s all you.’ Nothing. Ignis had kind of gazed at Prompto with a frankly confusing look on his face – half perplexed and half considering – and then given him a small smile before turning to face forward. He’d even started the car up, the universal symbol for ‘okay, time for you to go’. So Prompto had settled for a wave good-bye once he’d gotten his front door open.

"Prompto. It’s a fake date."

Prompto sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but he thinks it’s real, Noct. Can’t you just let me have this one? A guy’s gotta feel special once in a while." 

"He thinks it’s - Oh, shit, right. Sorry, uh, forgot."

Many, many things were flying right over Prompto’s head tonight. 

"If he thinks it’s real but he doesn’t kiss me, that means he doesn’t like me, right?"

"Dunno. Maybe gentlemen don’t kiss on the first date. Iggy’s old-fashioned like that." Noctis yawned, large and exaggerated. "Hey, I gotta go -" 

"So should I text him?"

"What?"

"That’s what people do, right? After a date?"

"Prompto, " Noctis said, "this is starting to sound like an actual date. Mmph." 

Prompto blushed, and then immediately felt grateful Noctis couldn’t see it. "Of course it wasn’t a real date! I just wanna make it convincing."

"Has he texted you?"

"Hold on, lemme look again." Prompto opened his messenger app for the hundredth time that night. "Nope."

A muffled voice spoke up in the background. 

"Gladio – no, you can’t have my phone." There was the sound of rustling, then Gladio’s voice came through the line. 

"Iggy won’t text you first. You gotta do it."

"Oh hey big guy," Prompto said, "what’re you doing at Noct’s?"

"Training!" Noctis chimed in, sounding frantic. "We’re training - Gladio, give it back!" 

A low chuckle from Gladio. "Yeah, what he said."

"Kinda late for that, isn’t it?"

"Nah, we train at all hours. Don’t we Noct?"

"Oof – yeah – all the time – Ugh, get off me, that’s sick!"

Prompto listened to the sound of Gladio and Noctis wrestling for a good minute before opening his mouth again, impatience finally winning out. "But really guys, if I gotta text him first, what do I -- "

"Shit, the phone’s still on." A click, and the sound of the dial tone.

Oh.

They weren’t training at all.  
_____

Ignis’ phone buzzed from where he’d left it on the counter. He stood and stretched, abandoning his reports to fetch it. Prompto’s name flashed up at him, along with a selfie he’d insisted on pairing with it, against Ignis’ wishes, of course.

He let out a sigh and keyed in his passcode. He should have been expecting this, he supposed.

[Prompto Argentum] Hey

[Iggy] Hello, Prompto. 

[Prompto Argentum] I had fun tonight

What was he supposed to say to that? How did people even do this texting thing? He preferred to keep his text messages short and to the point. Aside from the cat videos Noctis was fond of sending him, they largely consisted of quick answers and meeting confirmations.

Well, he should at least try.

[Iggy] Me too.

There was an almost immediate reply, entirely made up of emoji. Ignis chuckled and sent a random assortment of emoji back, including a bowl of ramen and a cute little rice ball. Prompto called him, then, and they chatted for so long Ignis lost track of time. He supposed he must have done an okay job at it because he got another date out of the deal. Prompto said he would surprise him, and - 'yeah, I promise, no really, Iggy, I swear I’ve got an idea already and it’s gonna be great' - that he would figure something out, albeit at the last minute.

The conversation continued into the early morning hours. When Ignis finally plugged his phone into the charger and changed for bed, he was surprised to find a smile on his face.

_____

Prompto fell asleep with his phone resting on his chest. He dreamed of green eyes and garters made for sleeves, gloved hands and kitchen knives.

_____

Noctis didn’t approve of Prompto taking Ignis to a haunted house. When Prompto told him the plan, Noct just rolled his eyes and said 'wow, he'll love that'. He wouldn’t elaborate when Prompto asked what he meant, either. Oh well. Noct could suck it as far as he was concerned. 

Ignis did love it. He found the haunted house hilarious, and they spent most of the time squealing and faking each other out. Prompto squealed, at least. Ignis mostly just looked amused. As a bonus, the jump scares gave Prompto the perfect opportunity to grab Ignis' hand and squeeze it tight. And if they were still holding hands when they finally emerged, and then all the way back to the car, and even during the car ride home, well, that was their business.  
_____

Prompto realized he wanted to kiss Ignis halfway through the third date. Not just a good-bye kiss, which still hadn't happened, by the way. A real kiss. A romantic kiss. A knock your socks off, take me home and do me kiss.

It didn’t help that Ignis had planned the most romantic date in the world.

They were on the top of the tallest building in Insomnia and Ignis had packed a freaking picnic. A picnic. With wine. And tiny appetizers. And pallet cleansers. Prompto didn’t even know what a pallet cleanser was. But here he was, on a supposedly fake date with a man who knew picnics well enough to include pallet cleansers on the menu.

The sun was setting and Ignis was literally feeding Prompto tiny, delicate bites of dessert. Prompto had had just a little too much wine (they maybe both had, if Prompto was judging by the rosy hue in Ignis' cheeks) and was making a game of giving a sensuous lick to the fork after every bite. The last twirl of Prompto’s tongue had them both giggling a little, and Prompto leaned forward mid-snicker. Ignis met him halfway, and when Prompto looked up their faces were just inches apart.

Inches apart.

The world froze as Prompto contemplated this new bit of information. He saw a tongue sneak out from between Ignis' lips, wetting them, which made him realize he'd been staring at said lips, and oh gods this was supposed to be a fake date. 

Instead of doing something suave or, like, making a joke, he froze in panic. Ignis did not pick up the slack. Not at all. He just… stared. His eyes roamed. Prompto felt picked apart and put back together in the space of a second.

And then Ignis snorted, and started laughing, and suddenly he was guffawing. Prompto froze even more, because hello, Ignis Scientia did not guffaw. Did Prompto do something wrong? Was there something on his face? Was Ignis laughing at Prompto because he knew Prompto wanted to kiss him?

"What?" he asked, anxiety making him blurt the word out.

Ignis slowed his laughter until it was reduced to the faintest flicker of mirth. "Nothing, darling. It's… did I just call you darling?"

More staring. More beautiful green eyes. More flushed cheeks and fingers reaching out to touch.

"Can I kiss you?" 

The words were out before Prompto could stop them.

Ignis broke eye contact. Looked down and brushed his shirt off, as though that would help him collect himself. "Perhaps that should wait until we are somewhere more public?" A blink, and a look like Ignis had revealed some terrible secret. "I mean -- "

Prompto was being rejected. It was a strange way of doing it, sure, but he knew a rejection when he heard one. He mustered his most flirtatious smile and willed himself to make a joke of it. "You want an audience, huh? We could do that."

Somehow that shifted the mood. They were back to dessert, followed by a coffee course. Prompto supposed the rest of the night was just fine. They watched the sunset. They chatted sometimes, and sometimes they just sat, wrapped up in their own thoughts. Prompto didn’t get a good-bye kiss, or a rooftop kiss, or any kiss at all. They didn’t even hold hands.

It was okay. They were only fake dates, after all.

_____

"Specs, you gotta do something." 

Ignis raised one eyebrow at Noctis. "Care to elaborate?"

"Prompto is driving me crazy."

"Ah."

"He’s been moping for days." Noctis glowered at Ignis from his usual spot at the table. "What did you do to him?"

"I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Bullshit," Noct said, "nobody’s that dense."

Ignis turned away from his charge and resumed the task of putting groceries away. He felt something hit him in the arm.

"Really, Noct? Paper airplanes?"

"Read it."

_____

"You’re moping again."

"No I’m not," Prompto said. He stared out the window. The sky was slate gray, perfect for his mood.

Noctis joined him on the couch. "Come on, buddy, you’re being a real downer. Here." He felt a game controller land in his lap, was vaguely aware of Noctis powering up the console. "PVP match, alright?"

"Nah, I’ll just watch."

He heard a scoff and could feel Noctis roll his eyes at him, but seconds later a single-player game was loading and Prompto was able to mope in peace. 

It had been a whole week since the not-kissing date. Prompto had very studiously avoided Ignis the entire time. He’d ignored the three texts Ignis had sent him (because apparently he wasn’t worth more effort than three measly texts) and almost succeeded in not sending any himself. He’d moved on, okay? Moved on from his fake boyfriend or whatever.

How lame was that?

The gala was nine days away, and Noctis had asked him a couple of times how things were going with Iggy. Prompto had given him vague answers and Noct had seemed content enough with them, but he still moaned about it when Prompto was in a bad mood, and sometimes he caught Noct just staring at him, like he was putting together a puzzle in his head.

Eventually Prompto would have to tell him he couldn’t go to the gala and admit that he’d let a fake relationship – not even a relationship, just a couple of stupid dates – break his stupid heart.

A key turned in the door.

"Noct," Prompto said, sitting bolt upright, "You told me he wasn’t coming over today!"

"I lied," Noctis replied with a shrug.

"What? You – you did this on purpose?"

Noctis didn’t answer, just turned his attention back to the TV.

Prompto absolutely 100% did not panic, which is to say he landed a dramatic roll off the couch and attempted to hide under the coffee table. It tipped over, sending comic books and empty soda cans flying.

"Good evening, Noct. I’ve brought – Prompto?"

Prompto peered through his bangs at Ignis. "Oh, hey, Iggy. I was just, uh… getting up!" He went to stand, only to trip over the upturned table. His tailbone hit the ground, and it hurt. "Ow!"

"Hmm," Ignis intoned, pressing his lips together. "Noctis, would you mind fetching that thing we were talking about from your bedroom?"

"What thing?" Noctis said over the noise of the game.

"Noct. "

"Ugh." The game was paused. "Fine. You better be quick though." Noctis stood up and walked pointedly down the hall.

Prompto tried to stand again. It didn’t go well. He looked up to find a long hand extended in an offer of help. He took it, ignoring the mix of shame and warmth that washed over him. "Thanks, Iggy," he said, not meeting Ignis’ eyes. 

Ignis righted the table and cleaned up the items that had fallen, then sat down on the couch. "Prompto," he said, "I was wondering if we could have a word?"

"Of course," Prompto managed. He shifted from foot to foot anxiously. 

Ignis patted the cushion next to him. "Can you sit?"

Prompto sat. On the other end of the couch. With an entire cushion between them.

"I believe I may have…" Ignis was looking down. He paused, then reached for Prompto’s hand, and held eye contact when Prompto finally forced himself to look. Prompto prayed to Leviathan, the goddess of sweaty palms, to pardon him. He wiped his hand on his jeans for good measure before taking ahold of Ignis’.

Ignis pushed his glasses up his nose. "Are you upset with me?"

'Yeah, actually,' Prompto thought. 'We were having these fake dates but you kept acting like they were real so I got my hopes up. I thought it was okay to ask if I could kiss you, and then you totally shot me down and proceeded to act like it never happened. What gives?' 

"No," Prompto said.

Ignis gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I just -- " and then before Prompto could do anything, like squeeze back or clear his head or blink, there was a palm on his jaw and lips pressed against his.

Prompto kissed back, boy did he kiss back. He parted his lips and let Ignis lick up into his mouth before taking a bottom lip between his. He pressed into the kiss and backed Ignis onto the arm of the sofa in a moment of boldness. He gasped when the tables were turned, and he nipped at Ignis, which elicited a surprised intake of breath and a playful nip back. They made out for what felt like millennia, and Prompto counted every press of lips as the first. 

He grinned and rested their foreheads together when they finally parted, leaving his eyes open so he could stare into Ignis’ even though it made Ignis look like he had four instead of two. Eight. No, at some point Ignis had taken his glasses off. Four.

Prompto sat back and studied Ignis. "You look good without your glasses."

"That’s what you stopped kissing me to say?"

"Oh, shut up." And they were at it again.

A noise came from the direction of the hallway. "Specs, I couldn’t find the thing, you’re gonna have to – Oh, thank the Astrals. It’s about fucking time."

Ignis broke the kiss and turned to regard Noctis.

"Language, Highness."

Prompto pulled him back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)


	3. Prompt - Ignis comforting Prompto from reoccuring nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was dreaming.”
> 
> “Ah.“ Ignis cards his hand through Prompto’s hair. "Do you wish to talk about it?”
> 
> “The sun was out.”
> 
> “That sounds pleasant.” He keeps his ministrations up, hoping the attention will prove calming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)

Ignis goes from asleep to awake in the blink of an eye, metaphorically speaking.

He can feel someone hovering, and for just a moment he seethes. They must all know by now how disorienting it is to wake to the same darkness that envelops you in sleep.

But of course they don’t. He is the blind one, nobody else.

A hitch of breath, in front and to the left of him.

"Noct?" he inquires, his own breath mixing with stale air. He tries for gentle, almost hits the mark. 

There is a sniffle in response.

"Prompto."

"I-Iggy?" Need mixed with uncertainty. "Are you awake?"

"I’m speaking, aren’t I?" An edge creeps into the words, sharp and readied to cut.

"Yeah," and then softer, "sorry, I -- "

"Prompto. Sit."

He feels the mattress dip, further away than he would like. Prompto is keeping a careful six inches or so between them. He sighs and holds out a hand. 

"Come closer."

A moment passes. Two. The hand on offer remains empty. Of course. It must be dark. He gropes for an arm, finds it, tugs once, lightly.

Prompto flinches palpably, then pauses, as though willing himself not to shuffle backward. Ignis feels something tighten in his gut, feels anger roil up. He breathes in, and then back out, and then speaks as softly as he can manage.

"If you would rather not -- "

"No. I want to."

"All right."

A rustle of sheets and the weight of something in Ignis’ lap. He is a moment too late in steeling himself. The suddenness of it catches him unawares. Ignis holds still, forces himself to relax. It isn’t easy.

They’re quite the pair, each one craving the other, unable to accept even these small intimacies. 

"May I touch your hair?" Ignis asks, lifting his hand.

A nod, and he can feel a cheek pressing into the crease of his pants.

He reaches down to find locks strewn across a sweaty forehead. His fingers trail along them, trace their way across Prompto’s hairline, then reach his ear and tuck the strands neatly into place.

"Are you running a fever?"

"No, I --" and the face turns to press eyes into that same crease. When it turns back the fabric is damp. "I was dreaming."

"Ah." Ignis cards his hand through Prompto’s hair. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

"The sun was out."

"That sounds pleasant." He keeps his ministrations up, hoping the attention will prove calming.

"Noct was dead."

The room goes silent and cold as the walls that surround them. Blood freezes in Ignis’ veins. His hand stills in the air. Prompto is shifting in his lap, no doubt attempting to ascertain his expression. 

"Iggy?"

"Yes, I – I’m sorry." He lowers his arm, pays no attention to where it lands.

"Can I tell you?" So quiet it is almost a whisper.

He wants nothing more than for Prompto to return to his own bed, for this dream to never have happened. He is unprepared, can offer no comfort when he knows the truth of it. He can hardly leave Prompto to sit with his thoughts, however. It would be unkind, and Prompto would take it personally. The boy is so fragile, and Ignis is so fragile, and they shouldn’t be trusted with each other.

"Of course," he says. His voice breaks on the words.

Prompto takes a breath, and for a moment Ignis thinks he will forget to breathe out. Finally, though, he does. And what he says takes Ignis’ breath away in turn.

"The dreams, I’ve had them since forever. Since before I met him, Iggy." Then, softly, as though raising one’s voice could very well leave a permanent mark on an already uneasy future, "do you think it means something?"

"No." 

It does. 

Noct, pawn of the Astrals. 

Noct, upon his throne.

Noct, calling the ancestors.

Noct, betrayed by his father. 

(asking his father to betray him, but that is neither here nor there.)

It is the same story, always the same story. There will never, can never, be another story. 

Ignis knows it all too well.

He holds Prompto then, to the degree he is permitted; listens, murmurs comforting words. He does not tell him it was just a dream, does not say it isn’t real. 

He has no idea whether Prompto notices the omission.

Prompto sobs while Ignis strokes his hair. The moon moves through the sky, unwitnessed and uninterrupted, tracing a path set in motion long before their lifetimes. Ignis nods, then jerks awake to find himself bowed forward over Prompto’s resting form, having chosen to forgo his own comfort in favor of another. Prompto is drooling. Fingers clutch tightly to fabric, eyelids flutter, and eventually he relaxes into sleep. Ignis is not far behind.

Upon waking he asks the time, is informed it must be sunrise. Wondrously, Prompto is still there, head in lap, unmoving save for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. 

Ignis’ fingers trace a sharp jawline, brush across feathery breaths. When they rest, it is to offer up a prayer of gratitude. 

He is not certain to whom he prays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)


	4. Prompt - Gloves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He stopped wearing gloves after Altissia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a minute and say that this week has been absolutely fabulous to participate in. You all are feeding my soul.
> 
> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)

He stopped wearing gloves after Altissia.

It was Prompto's idea, a practical one. He was without, there was a gap to be filled. How common.

So he left them, discarded on some dusty tabletop. Implored Prompto to move them elsewhere, just in case.

He wanted to forget.

It was too much at the beginning. Darkness paired with the overwhelming need to touch, fingertips burning, nerves oversensitive. It reminded him of the ring, and when his hands brushed the sheets at night he dreamed.

They were not pleasant dreams.

He'd spent so much of his life not touching, thin layers of leather separating him from the world, no context for what he was missing. Now, everything was intimate. 

A wall, his lover. 

A tabletop, caressing.

Cutlery, tinny and cold, warming under his touch.

Prompto.

Prompto, guiding curious hands to places he hadn’t even realized they longed for.

Prompto, seeking new textures for him to explore.

Prompto, who invited him to touch.

Calloused palms, soft down across a speckled arm.

An elbow, in contrast.

The outline of muscles. A testament to war. A body conquered.

Sharp angles. Shoulder blade behind, clavicle in front. 

A promise made and kept.

And there, in the center, a beating heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This is the last stop on the Ignis Feels Trip, y'all. From here on out we have fluff and more fluff. Tomorrow's piece is a kidfic featuring Smol!Chocobros and all the dads.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)


	5. Prompt - Ignis gets captured, Prompto is blinded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarus let out a sigh and eased his way out of a plastic patio chair. "Guess I should intervene" he said, turning to Cor and giving an eyeroll. He cupped his hands over his mouth to be heard over the sound of splashing. “Gladio, what’s the rule about dunking?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, I wrote a kidfic!
> 
> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)

"Marco!"

Giggles rang out across the pool area.

"Polo!"

A child squealed.

"Marco!"

"You better watch out, Prompto. You’re about to be caught," Cor called from the poolside.

"Dad! You’re gonna give it away! Oof!"

There was a splash, and Prompto’s head disappeared.

Clarus let out a sigh and eased his way out of a plastic patio chair. "Guess I should intervene." He cupped his hands around his mouth to be heard over the sound of splashing. "Gladio, what’s the rule about dunking?"

Gladio just laughed. 

"Don’t make me fetch the king," Clarus yelled, with a wink in Regis’ direction.

There was a dramatic groan and a shake of unruly locks. "Ugh. Fine, dad," Gladio complained, but he tumbled off the kid anyway.

Prompto surfaced, then swam to the edge of the pool and hauled himself up, taking big gulps of air. His face turned red and blotchy and he reached to wipe at his eyes.

"Oh, for Astrals’ sake – come here, Gladio."

Cor didn’t envy Clarus, Gladio was a handful and a half. Then again, Prompto cried over so many things it was hard to keep up.

He watched his son warily. He was entirely unequipped to deal with this today.

Lucky for him, the Scientia kid was on it.

_____

Gladio was in trouble. Prompto was glad.

Served him right.

He felt the first hitch of breath and just knew. He was gonna cry again, here, in front of his friends. 

The tears welled up, spilling over onto his cheeks, then plopping one by one onto his wet swim trunks. He hated crying. But Gladio had pushed him under, and he’d struggled to breathe, and he was sure the other boy hated him and besides he’d almost died.

But it was okay, because Gladio’s dad was yelling at him. A lot.

Footsteps padded up behind him. It was Ignis, the serious kid that was hired to hang out with the prince. He sat down next to Prompto and looked out over the water. His posture was perfect, even with his legs dangling and his swim trunks sticking to the concrete. 

"Gladio is a brute," Ignis said.

Prompto blinked in surprise, then giggled. Ignis looked sideways at him, fixing him with a mischievous smile.

The giggle turned into a snort, then a chortle, and then they were both laughing, Ignis with a dignified chuckle and Prompto guffawing so hard that he fell backwards and hit his head. He sat up and cradled it, eyes wide. "Ow," he said, and that made them lose it all over again.

Gladio sped by, fast as lightning. He did a cannonball, sending waves up to splash them. If they hadn’t been soaked already it would have been rude. But everything was fine and his friends actually liked him and Ignis had made sure he was okay.

Speaking of Ignis... the boy wasn’t paying attention to Prompto anymore, eyes turned instead to where Noctis was sitting with his dad. Prompto couldn’t resist – he placed one hand squarely on Ignis’ arm and shoved.

The noise he made when he hit the water was pretty satisfying, honestly.

Ignis came up with a sputter. "My glasses," he said, groping around in the water.

"Oh, shit! Sorry! Here, let me get them."

Prompto jumped in, only half aware of Cor telling him to watch his language. Cor hardly got upset over things like swearing and Clarus was punching him on the shoulder with a grin on his face anyway. So instead of responding he dove under and caught Ignis’ glasses before they could float into the pool’s filtering system. He presented them, an offering.

"It’s quite all right," Ignis said, "I shouldn’t be wearing them at the pool anyhow."

The glasses were folded neatly and set on the concrete. 

"Please be aware of where you sit. I don’t want them broken."

Prompto smiled nervously. "No prob -- "

Muscular shoulders appeared behind Ignis. He was under before Prompto could process it.

Clarus’ voice rang out from the sidelines. "Gladio! No dunking!"

Gladio smiled wide at Prompto. "Your turn, squirt," he said, before swimming off.

_____

"You playing?" Prompto asked Ignis. The boy managed to look dignified even after being dunked. His hair had even maintained its shape, parted to one side and cut so it brushed over his forehead but didn’t get in his eyes.

Prompto’s hair was most definitely in his eyes, and plastered to his neck, and sticking out at odd angles. There was even a little in his mouth.

He spit it out.

Ignis watched the action, his facial expression unchanging. "I suppose," he said. "We must have our revenge, after all." He called out to Noctis, inquiring as to whether the prince was planning on joining the game.

"On my way," Noct answered, standing. He ran toward them.

Prompto’s grin nearly met his earlobes. He pumped a fist in the air and let out a whoop.

_____

"Highness, no running! Regis, Cor – why am I the only one concerned with the prince’s safety?"

"It’s kinda in the job description, Clarus."

_____

Prompto squeezed his eyes shut and told himself not to peek.

"Don’t peek, don’t peek, don’t peek…" he said under his breath.

He squinted, looking out through wet lashes.

"You’re peeking," Noctis complained. "I’m telling my dad!" 

"Sorry!"

Prompto closed his eyes tighter. He really didn’t want King Regis to throw him in the dungeon. 

"Marco!"

"Polo!" It came from his left.

He swam toward the sound, stretching his arms out. Heard a laugh followed by the splash of somebody swimming away.

"Marco!"

"Polo!" Gladio, directly behind him.

He spun around. Nothing.

Ignis was suspiciously silent.

"Come on, guys," he called, getting frustrated.

This time the laugh came from outside the pool. It was Cor.

"Dad, no laughing!"

"Keep at it son, you’re doing great!"

He blushed, chest swelling with something like pride. Cor thought he was doing great.

"Marco!" he yelled out, emboldened.

"Polo," an accented voice said, directly in front of him. 

He reached his arms out, paddling forward. Ran into something solid and wet. The object made a noise somewhere between surprised and pleased. 

"Caught you!"

"I suppose that makes it my – augh."

Prompto wrapped his arms around Ignis and squeezed tight. Giggles rose up in his throat and his lashes fluttered open. He found himself staring into bright green eyes. They were wide with shock, droplets of water clinging to the corners.

"Unhand me!"

"No way, I captured you fair and square. You’re my prisoner!" Prompto announced. He leaned forward, forcing Ignis to kick his legs to stay afloat. "Hey, can you see without your glasses?" He let go and paddled back a few paces.

Ignis bobbed in front of him. His cheeks were flushed, and he was giving Prompto a shy sort of look.

"I can see perfectly well, thank you."

Prompto grinned and booped him on the nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)


	6. Prompt - Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nobody ever dances with us,” Noctis grumbled. He squeezed one of Prompto’s spikes between his fingers. It made a crunching sound. 
> 
> “That’s because somebody insists on hiding by the bleachers with the losers.” Prompto gestured down the wall to prove his point. The bleachers were filled with nerdy types, waiting around for someone to ask them to dance, or playing Magic the Gathering, or just generally looking bored and miserable.
> 
> “We are losers,” Noctis reminded him. "We play D&D in our free time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal with this fic is to make you sympathy cringe as hard as I did while I was writing it.
> 
> [Obligatory listening!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmbmeOgWsqE)
> 
> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)

Prompto was feeling good. He was confident, he was sexy, he was gonna own this high school dance.

"See ya inside?" he asked, tapping the top of Gladio's gremlin. It made a satisfying tinny sound.

"Yeah," Gladio responded. "Can't hang out tonight, though. On duty."

"What, so you just get to stand around and look pretty?"

"You got it, blondie."

"Have fun with that," Prompto said. He winked at Gladio before turning and sashaying away. His audience was waiting for him.

_____

He pushed the gym doors open, entering with a strut and stopping just inside for dramatic effect. Good as Hell was playing in the background like his own personal theme song, his hair was styled into clumpy spikes (Elmer's glue, thanks for the advice, Gladio) and he was rocking leopard print pants and a punk vest with patches that he'd picked up at a thrift store.

_I do my hair toss, check my nails, baby how you feelin'_

"Feeling good as hell," Prompto sang. He pitched his voice up for effect.

He mouthed the next lines as he made his way through the crowd. Groups of girls turned and stared, some covering their mouths to whisper to their friends, others giggling as they eyed him.

Yeah, he was a hot item tonight.

Noctis was over by the bleachers, leaning up against a wall. Prompto wove his way through the crowd toward him. When he got to his friend, he shimmied a little to the music. "He don’t love you anymore," he went on, "so walk your fine ass out the door…"

"Prom," Noctis said, looking appropriately embarrassed. "What are you doing?"

"Getting in the mood! Come on, Noct. Tonight’s our night."

Noctis rolled his eyes. "I don’t even wanna be here. Dad made me come."

"Noct, nobody's gonna dance with you if you're rocking that attitude all night." Prompto brushed a strand of hair out of Noctis' face. "Dude, your hair is all over the place. You gotta try Elmer's glue." He twirled and patted the back of his own hair. "It's great."

"Nobody ever dances with us," Noctis grumbled. He crushed one of Prompto's spikes between his fingers. It made a crunching sound. 

"That’s because somebody insists on hiding by the bleachers with the losers." Prompto gestured down the wall to prove his point. The bleachers were filled with nerdy types, waiting around for someone to ask them to dance, or playing Magic the Gathering, or just generally looking bored and miserable.

"We are losers, " Noctis reminded him. "We play D&D in our free time."

"And video games," Prompto protested.

"Nerdy video games."

"Hey! Lots of guys play nerdy video games."

Prompto saw Gladio come in and waved. Gladio gave him a nod before discreetly settling in near the door, positioning himself so he had a view of the entire room.

"Ugh, and Gladio's here," Noctis moaned. "Why's he gotta follow me everywhere?"

"He's your bodyguard, buddy. It's cool to have a bodyguard. Plus, he's a chick magnet."

There was already a group of girls gathered around Gladio. One was actually touching his biceps.

"Yeah, and we're chick repellent."

"Noct. Stop it. Go out there and ask someone to dance."

"No way."

Prompto grabbed his friend's arm and pulled. It was like pulling on a statue. A particularly slouchy statue. 

"Fine," Prompto said, giving up. "Be that way. I'll dance by myself."

He made his way to the dance floor. The music shifted, becoming more akin to what they would play in a club. Not that Prompto had ever been to a club, especially not with the fake ID Noctis had scored for them. He didn’t know why Noct bothered, it wasn’t like he danced there either. 

Prompto let the music move through him, taking him to a place of total bliss. He would occasionally catch the eye of somebody and give them an inviting grin. Usually they just laughed nervously and turned their back on him. He understood. He could be pretty intimidating.

A couple of girls danced with him. Well, next to him really. Facing their girlfriends. Whatever. It totally counted. He turned to look at Noct, pointed at the girl currently dancing off to his left, and mouthed "I told you so."

Noctis just rolled his eyes.

The song ended and something slow came on. Couples began to pair off. He came to a stop and cast around for a dance partner. Any minute now somebody was going to approach him and ask him to dance. How could they not? He looked good tonight. A guy from his chemistry class caught his eye from the edge of the dance floor, but when Prompto started to cross the room the guy gave him a short shake of his head and walked off. Prompto wondered for a moment if he was supposed to follow him. Maybe he'd end up making out in a corner somewhere, or the guy would be waiting in the bathroom for him.

Nah. Prompto knew a fantasy when he saw one. 

He chose instead to approach a group of girls that were clearly waiting for somebody to ask them to dance. They were part of the bleacher crowd, but that was fine by Prompto. Nerds deserved to dance sometimes too, right? If it were him he'd be flattered.

"Heyaz!" he greeted them, in a way that was definitely not way too enthusiastic.

One of the girls looked over at him. "Um, hi. Can we help you?" She was good-looking enough. A little plain, with mousy hair and glasses, but she had pretty green eyes and her hair was done up in a pompadour, which did a genderbendy thing that Prompto liked. 

This was his chance. His big debut. Maybe he'd even get a girlfriend out of it.

"You wanna dance?" he asked, fighting down the first wave of nervousness he'd felt all night.

The girl barked out a laugh. "Are you serious?"

It was like the music scratched to a halt. Prompto was left standing there, soundtrackless, and this girl was staring at him like he had two heads.

He went to scratch the nape of his neck, then pulled his hand back down, playing with nonexistent sleeve cuffs instead.

"Nope, haha, totally joking," he said, voice cracking. "Sorry to bother you." He cast desperately around for Noct, who was no longer in his corner of choice. Damnit, if Noct was dancing with somebody… "Uh, I'm just gonna," Prompto gestured behind him. "Enjoy your night!"

And he fled.

_____

The water in the bathroom sink was cold. Prompto splashed some on his face and forced himself to take deep breaths. _You can salvage this_ , he told his reflection. _You look good, you're confident, somebody out there is dying to dance with you._

He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and pressed X to continue.

_____

Noctis, turns out, was shoving food into his face at the snack table. He smirked when Prompto approached.

"Good job, loser," he said, elbowing Prompto.

Prompto shrugged his shoulders. "At least I tried." He picked up a paper plate. "What's good over here, anyway?"

Noctis tried unsuccessfully to answer through a mouthful of chips.

"Gross, dude. No wonder nobody wants to dance with you."

"Not the only one," Noct teased. "Hey, maybe you should ask Ignis." He gestured to the man in question, who was standing at the other end of the long table serving punch to a skinny kid with acne.

Prompto rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like that's gonna win me any popularity points."

"What's wrong with Specs?" Noctis asked. 

"Noct, Ignis is the kind of guy that volunteers to serve punch at a high school dance."

"Back off, dude." You did not insult Ignis in front of Noct. "He's on the planning committee."

"Hey look, banana pudding!"

Noctis sighed. "And distracted."

Prompto wandered down to the end of the table, Noct trailing behind. The skinny kid with acne tipped his plastic cup up at Ignis and made his departure, which left Prompto, Noctis, Ignis, a punch bowl, and the banana pudding huddled together at the end of the table.

"Prompto," Ignis greeted. "Noctis."

"Hey Iggy," Prompto said around a bite of pudding. "Wow, this is really good. Did you make it? Noct, you should try this."

Noctis wrinkled his nose. "Eew. No way."

"Noct, bananas are good for you," Ignis said.

"Don’t snark at me, Specs. They're practically a vegetable. And that," Noctis pointed at Prompto's plate, "is a mushy dessert."

Ignis curled his lips up into an amused smile. "I am, unfortunately, not responsible for the banana pudding. Lady Lunafreya dropped it off, apparently her brother made it."

"Prom, stop eating that right now," Noctis said. A little bit of panic crept into his voice. "It could be poison."

Prompto swallowed the bite in his mouth and licked some pudding off his upper lip. "C'mon, Noct, don't be ridiculous. Poison doesn't taste this good."

Had Prompto seen Ignis' eyes following the action, he would have blushed mightily. We've established, however, that Prompto is clueless in this story, so he didn't.

Ignis cleared his throat, casting his eyes away from Prompto and his banana pudding antics. "Lady Lunafreya says to tell you both hello, by the way. She would like you to know that she's sorry she couldn't make it to the dance, but that she will be joining our next Dungeons and Dragons campaign."

Noctis grinned. "Cool, I was getting worried we wouldn't have a healer."

"Yeah, and with Iggy being the DM, there'd be nobody to stock up on curatives."

"God forbid I leave it to the rest of you to remember," Ignis said with a shake of his head and a fond smile.

"It's not my fault Gladio chooses to pick up girls every time we enter a town," Noctis protested.

Ignis pushed his glasses up his nose. "People living in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, Noct."

"What're you talking about? I always make sure to -- "

"During the last campaign you insisted on taking a nap before every battle."

"Well, if Prompto's constitution was higher, maybe we wouldn't go through so many potions to begin with."

"That's just how I roll," Prompto replied. "Get it?"

Not even Ignis laughed at that one.

Prompto went in for a big bite of pudding, but he overestimated how much could fit on the spoon, and down the front of him it went. 

Ignis tsked. "Here, let me get that for you." He appeared in front of Prompto, brandishing a cup of water and a stack of napkins. The first napkin was used to wipe the excess pudding away. This was followed by a second, which was wetted and used to dab off the stain. "Once we get the majority of this off, you should go to the restroom and rinse your shirt with water and a little soap. That way it won't -- "

Ignis glanced up and froze. A hand tightened on Prompto's shirt, wrinkling the wet spot that had moments before been covered in banana pudding. The world stopped turning. A low, sultry song wove its way into the scene, and something moved in Prompto's chest. Green eyes pulled him in, and he fell, deeper than he'd ever fallen before. Distantly, Prompto heard the sound of plastic hitting the ground.

"You just spilled water on the floor," Prompto whispered.

"Yes," Ignis breathed.

"Shouldn't you clean it up?"

"No."

A breathless, desperate look crossed Ignis' face, and Prompto got the distinct impression he was being asked permission. He nodded. He had no idea what he was consenting to, but it was okay, because in that moment he wanted everything.

He found himself being pulled forward, felt lips press against his. He let out a muffled "mmph" before remembering to kiss back. The music swelled and his chest swelled with it. The back of his knees hit the table. Something fell off and clattered when it hit the floor. He broke the kiss. "Other direction," he said, and Ignis complied.

Noctis made gagging noises behind them.

Prompto smiled into Ignis' mouth and made a show of kissing him harder. Their arms wrapped around each other and their mouths parted, and this was Prompto's first kiss, and it was really, really bad.

It didn't matter.

The last dance of the night was announced. It was always a slow dance, and it was significant because you were supposed to ask somebody really special – your crush, or the person you had been too chicken to talk to all night, or your actual girlfriend or boyfriend – to dance when it came on. 

Tonight it was the Florence & the Machine cover of _Stand By Me_. Prompto would've considered it a strange choice had he not been, you know, making out hardcore with the sexiest guy in the room. It was a sad song, one that always had Gladio crying. 

Ignis kissed him once more, softly, then leaned forward to rest their foreheads together. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he whispered into the space between their lips.

Prompto felt nothing but wonder. The swelling feeling in his chest gave way to flutters. "What am I supposed to say to that?"

"Say you'll dance with me," Ignis responded, pulling back and holding out a hand to Prompto. His posture was formal, as though he had been trained since childhood in the proper way to ask a young man for a dance.

A shy smile spread across Promptos' face. "I don’t know, dude, my dance card might be full."

Ignis responded by taking Prompto's hand and drawing it to his lips. His head bowed low and he pressed a single kiss to cold knuckles. They took up a standard dancing position, with Ignis' arm around Prompto's waist and Prompto's hand on Ignis' shoulder, their other hands clasped together. 

"You don’t wanna dance… you know, on the dance floor?" Prompto said, not taking his eyes off Ignis.

"Right here is just fine," Ignis responded, and he pulled Prompto close enough that their chests were flush.

Prompto laughed nervously. "Watch out for the ruler lady. This is definitely closer than six inches." He pressed more of their bodies together, extending the point of contact down past their hips. Heat crept up into his cheeks, but it felt good. He very politely told Anxious Prompto to go fuck off somewhere else. 

"Noct has it under control," Ignis whispered, into his ear. Shivers ran down Prompto's spine. He looked over Ignis' shoulder, and sure enough, Noctis was pointing out a different couple to the woman. She started off toward them, brandishing her ruler and looking quite pleased with herself. He caught Prompto's eye and winked.

They turned, and Prompto caught sight of Gladio. He had a hankie out and was blowing his nose and wiping tears from his eyes. Ignis chuckled when they turned again. It vibrated up through Prompto's chest, and for just a moment he was afraid his knees might buckle beneath him.

Ignis tightened his arm. Prompto leaned his head against Ignis' shoulder and wove their fingers together. Ignis kissed his knuckles again.

"You take my breath away, you know."

 _Same_ , Prompto thought. _Same_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you spotted the Stranger Things references, you get a gold star! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)


	7. Prompt - BDSM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto straddled a hairy calf and began the process of tying Ignis’ feet to the bedpost. His tongue worked its way out between his teeth and his brow furrowed in concentration. One foot was raised, and then lowered, and then raised again. Different variations on knots were tried. Some wouldn’t hold and others wouldn’t come untied when Prompto pulled the way he was supposed to. He flipped through the boy scout handbook they’d found at a thrift store. "Ugh," he moaned, "my knots look nothing like these." He sat back on his haunches and let out a huff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title - BDSM 101: What Not To Do
> 
> So... a little content warning. A safeword is ignored in this chapter. I’m not marking it dubcon because it’s a product of downright awful communication and the mistake is acknowledged almost immediately, but just be aware if that’s uncomfortable territory for you.
> 
> I don’t think this fic is particularly funny or fluffy or angsty... it’s just, realistic?
> 
> Nothing explicit here, y’all.
> 
> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)

Prompto gave the knot a tug and smiled. "Seems secure." He looked down at Ignis. "Feet?"

Ignis considered, pulled on the ropes himself, and nodded.

"Cool," Prompto said. "Lemme know if you need anything up there." He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Ignis’ lips before scrambling to the foot of the bed. "Oh – right. Rope." He reached back and grabbed what was left of the rope. "Stretch your legs out." 

Prompto straddled a hairy calf and began the process of tying Ignis’ feet to the bedpost. His tongue worked its way out between his teeth and his brow furrowed in concentration. One foot was raised, and then lowered, and then raised again. Different variations on knots were tried. Some wouldn’t hold and others wouldn’t come untied when Prompto pulled the way he was supposed to. He flipped through the boy scout handbook they’d found at a thrift store. "Ugh," he moaned, "my knots look nothing like these." He sat back on his haunches and let out a huff.

"Ow! Prompto, my knee." Ignis gasped. 

"Oh - sorry, Iggy." Prompto shot a guilty look over his shoulder and moved off the affected leg. He tilted his head sideways and contemplated the mess he’d made of the ropes. "Hey babe, I think I’m doing something wrong."

Ignis did his best to prop himself up without the aid of his arms. He craned his neck and squinted. "I can’t properly see what you’ve done from here. Would you mind passing me my glasses?"

Glasses were fetched from the bedside table. "Here," Prompto said, holding them out for Ignis to take. 

After a long moment, Ignis cleared his throat.

"What?" 

"I find that my hands are otherwise occupied."

Prompto gave a nervous laugh. "Oh. Right. Here, let me just -- " He turned his attention to the bindings at Ignis’ wrists, dropping the glasses somewhere among the sheets. Ignis held still and let him work.

A few seconds stretched into two minutes. Two crept onward to five. Finally Prompto let out a frustrated sound, batting at the knots. He shifted on the bed. "Oh, ow." Shifted again and ran his hand across the comforter to seek out the offending object. They came to rest against something cold and delicate; wire, and – 

Prompto froze, curling his fingers around Ignis’ glasses, frames bent beyond repair.

"Prompto, you’ve tightened the knots, not loosened them." 

"Um... Iggy?"

He held the glasses out.

A deep sigh echoed through the room. Ignis pulled his legs toward his body, twisting his feet to disentangle them from the ropes at the foot of the bed. He tilted his head up and closed his eyes, then made to bring one hand to his face and stopped, meeting resistance.

"Tonberry," he said.

Prompto snorted.

"What?" Ignis asked. There was no mirth in the question.

"Sorry, it’s just -- " Prompto leaned over and set the glasses back on the bedside table. "It makes me laugh every time. I mean, not out loud, usually. But really. Tonberry. Say it a couple of times."

Ignis’ eyes narrowed and his eyebrows drew together. "This is hardly the time to be laughing." 

Prompto’s amusement devolved into cackling. He made an attempt at stopping, frowning and folding his hands in his lap. It didn’t last long before he was squirming again, eyes gleaming in amusement. All he had to do to get himself started was look over at Ignis; who was wearing the world’s most irritated expression, hair in his eyes and hands tied above his head; and think about tonberries.

Gods, those things were cute.

"Prompto."

"Sorry." Prompto tried desperately to be serious. He wiped away tears and held his mouth in a straight line for a torturous fifteen seconds, little noises of mirth escaping regardless of how hard he pinched his lips shut.

"I used the safeword." Ignis said.

"I know," Prompto giggled. "It’s hilarious, right?" Prompto turned to Ignis with a big grin, only to have it fall short when he saw Ignis’ expression, his face sliding into something akin to horror instead. "Oh. Oh, shit, Iggy, you said the – shit, I’m so sorry. Here, I’ll -- " 

"No." 

"It’ll be quick, I promise." Prompto settled himself across Ignis’ torso. His hands found the ropes again.

Ignis flexed and twisted away. "Stop."

Prompto stopped.

"Check in with me."

"I - sorry," Prompto said. He scooted backward, leaving a little bit of space between them. One hand found the hem of his boxers, working a worn edge between anxious fingers.

Ignis took a deep breath and closed his eyes again. "Fetch my pocket knife, please. And a glass of water."

Prompto did as was requested. He paused in the doorway when he returned. His cheeks were wet, and he scrubbed a hand across his face before speaking. "Are you mad at me?" he asked.

"I am finding it very difficult not to be," Ignis responded, voice tellingly even. His eyes were still closed, and the lines between his eyebrows stood out in stark contrast to the rest of his skin. 

The water was set on the bedside table, glasses carefully avoided. Prompto sat down on the edge of the bed and toed his foot across the floor. "Maybe we shouldn’t do this again," he offered. He sounded hoarse, like it was difficult to dredge up the words.

Ignis didn’t outright agree, but he didn’t disagree either. Instead he flexed his hands and gave a counter-offer. "Cut me loose and we’ll talk about it."

Prompto opened the knife and set to work.

Two flashes of a blade and Ignis’ wrists were free. He sat up and rubbed them. Prompto took one in his hand and examined where the ropes had cinched too tight. "Looks okay, doesn’t it?"

"It does. But Prompto, had I been restrained any longer, my circulation may have been impaired." Ignis said. He took Prompto by the chin, meeting his eyes. "It is very important that you notice details like that."

"Because it’s dangerous. I know, Iggy. I read the books too. I think – I think I’m just nervous." Prompto gave a shy smile, biting his lip. "And maybe ropes aren’t for me." The knife whirred between fingertips, blade flipping out and then back in, deftly passing his lifeline without slicing. 

Ignis watched it. There was a glint in his eye, sharp and ready to pierce. His tongue worked its way over his lips. "It seems not," he said slowly. "Although," and here he stopped Prompto’s hand, angling his own so the knife barely grazed the tip of his thumb, "perhaps there are other things we can try."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and maybe don’t go directly from your first failed BDSM attempt to knifeplay. Unless your name is Ignis Scientia, in which case you’re probably just fine. :)
> 
> Thank you for reading, and thank you so much to those of you who have left comments and feedback, you really do mean the world to me. If you haven’t checked other Promnis Week fics out already, go do so! Folks are writing some amazing things.
> 
> I’m publishing the first chapter of a four-chapter fic next week. It’s an MT!Prompto thing, canon-divergent, plenty of angst. So keep an eye out for that if you’re interested.
> 
> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)


End file.
